Page 4 of Escape of the Bridegroom (Escape #2)

E ve woke to the sound of clunking crockery, and the sight of a little maid setting a cup and saucer on her bedside table.

“Coffee, my lady. It’s what his lordship likes, but I can fetch you a cup of tea if you prefer it.”

Heavy with lack of sleep—she had lain awake for hour after restless hour—it took her a moment to fit yesterday’s awful events to the present.

She struggled to sit up. “Thank you. Coffee is fine.” She took a quick, suspicious glance beyond the maid and was relieved to see no sign of her husband. “Is his lordship up already? Is he at breakfast?”

After all, there had been moments last night of some kind of rapprochement. Not many, admittedly, but enough to give her hope that they might at least become friends in time. And then there had been that odd moment when she’d run into him in the doorway, and he had held her arm in a firm yet gentle grip. His touch had felt curiously...electric. There had been an odd, tingling sensation in her stomach, just because he was so good to look at. Though such silly thoughts would not help her now.

“No, my lady,” the maid was saying. “He breakfasted early and rode out first thing.”

“Ah. Thank you.”

The maid scurried off, leaving Eve to her own thoughts. She and Lord Wolf had at least agreed to make the best of their bargain. She was good at that. She would make Wolverton Hall into a comfortable home for both of them, and she would begin today.

First, she would discuss with him the most urgent repairs and renovations. Perhaps he would even accompany her around the house and thus give her an idea of his tastes and preferences. After that, she could make proper plans and engage more servants for there clearly were not enough to keep a house of this size.

How fortunate that she was practically inclined.

She threw back the covers and prepared for the day, washing in cool water and dressing in her no-nonsense day gown that she normally wore for visits to the sick and the orphans.

And thinking of orphans, she would find the right time to speak to Lord Wolf about his unused house near Covent Garden.

Liston, the ageing butler whom she encountered at the foot of the staircase, directed her to the breakfast parlour.

“Thank you,” she said. “Would you ask Mrs. Liston to come to me there in an hour?”

“My lady.” He almost creaked when he bowed. The man needed a pension and a cottage.

In the breakfast parlour, Patrick Wolf was tucking into a plate of bacon and eggs and mushrooms. He rose immediately.

“Good morning, my lady. Would you care to choose your own breakfast, or shall I bring you something?”

“No, please sit and enjoy your own. I shall help myself.”

There was only one other place set on his right, so she sat down there with her toast and egg and poured herself more coffee from the pot on the table.

“Cream?” Patrick asked with a hint of nervousness.

“No, thank you.”

“Did you sleep well?” he asked, his civility almost painful.

“Perfectly,” she lied. “Thank you. When will his lordship be back?”

An expression of profound relief relaxed his face. “Oh, you know about that already! He shouldn’t be gone more than three weeks.”

Eve dropped her hands into her lap and stared at him. “Three weeks? Then he hasn’t just gone for a ride?”

The hunted look was back in his eyes. “No, my lady. He’s gone to Lady Grandison’s party via... well, he’s gone. An engagement of long-standing,” he added anxiously.

“I’m sure,” Eve said sardonically. Anger at such cavalier treatment was beginning to pierce her sense of desolation. Thankfully. “Via where?”

Patrick sighed. “A prize fight. You wouldn’t like it.”

“No, I wouldn’t. I daresay I wouldn’t care for Lady Grandison’s party either.”

“That’s what Aidan thought.”

She had almost forgotten her husband’s Christian name. What did it matter? She was unlikely to have cause—or opportunity—to use it. So much for rapprochement. Just when she’d thought he had run out of ways, or even of desire, to insult her, he had done it again. There had been no need to bolt quite so offensively fast.

He must really hate her.

Part of her cringed at that, but again anger was her saviour. The man was a coward, a louse, unable to take responsibility for his actions or their results. She despised him cordially.

“Then I shall have to proceed without him. Perhaps you will know. Is the house structurally sound? What urgent repairs are necessary?”

“Quite sound, I believe,” Patrick said, sounding surprised. “Aidan has always seen to that and made sure the tenants’ cottages are watertight.”

“Then I can learn the rest of what I need to from Mrs. Liston. There will be some upheaval, I’m afraid, while I bring the house into some order, but I’m afraid I refuse to live in this level of discomfort.”

She drained her coffee cup, and, having eaten barely a mouthful of toast and egg, stood up and excused herself. Instead of waiting for Mrs. Liston, she went down to the kitchen to beard her there. It was a sensible place to begin.

***

B Y THE END OF THAT first week, she had the whole house thoroughly cleaned and aired. She had engaged three more girls from the village to act as housemaids and two footmen for the heavy lifting. She had obtained estimates from painters, decorators and carpenters, and bespoke the services of those she considered best.

The following day, they began their work, leaving Eve with little to do except supervise. And think.

Her aunt had sent on the rest of her possessions from London so she was now equipped with all the clothes and jewels necessary for a lady to make calls and attend parties. But she knew no one but Patrick and the tenants he had taken her to visit at her request. She took note of who was ill, expecting a child, or struggling, realizing with relief that at least part of her duties were very similar to the charitable work she had undertaken in London with Mr. Neville. Of whom she would not think.

Patrick also took her to the vicarage and to the squire’s house where she caused quite a stir. Some rumour of his lordship’s sudden marriage must have reached them already and the squire, his wife, son and daughters seemed to be unsure whether to be friendly, haughty, or disapproving. They seemed surprised that she spoke the king’s English.

The visit depressed her, and anger rose once again that Lord Wolf had left her to face these challenges alone. No doubt he considered it her just deserts for daring to marry him as well as being the source of his twelve thousand pounds.

Wolverton Hall smelled of paint and few of the rooms were comfortable. There was little enough she could do here until their work was done.

In which case, she might as well begin on the new orphanage. Which, unfortunately, required the permission of her husband before she could view it, let alone make the necessary alterations and install the orphans.

A new, rather deliciously vengeful idea began to form. It made her smile, so she went in search of Patrick.

“Where does Lady Grandison reside?”

***

S HE TRAVELLED BY POST -chaise, since there were no suitable horses to pull the ancient travelling coach she discovered in the carriage house.

Patrick, though he had looked appalled by her decision, at least offered to accompany her. She turned him down, which she could tell was a relief, although he still did his best to dissuade her.

“You ought to give him some notice,” he said at last.

“Oh no. Such staid civilities are not his style, are they?”

“I know he ought to have informed you before he left...” Patrick began awkwardly.

“He ough t to have informed my father he would not be attending his wedding breakfast. He ought to have informed me we were leaving London the same day. He ought to have informed the newspapers of our nuptials as he promised my father he would. By all I have learned from him, as the dutiful wife of a noble gentleman, I know exactly how to behave. I should not be gone above a couple of nights. You won’t have time to miss me.”

Although she spoke with sardonic humour, Patrick said, “Actually, I will. You deserve better than us.”

His words actually softened her anger, if not her intent. She thought resolutely about the orphans and steeled herself once more to obtain what she needed.

***

I T WAS AN EXHAUSTING journey and almost six in the evening by the time the post-chaise pulled up on the gravel drive before the front door of Grand Court, a gracious, neo-classical pile of daunting proportions. She supposed it was no bigger than Wolverton Hall, but everything about it gleamed, from the walls and windows, to the shining lake glimpsed through the trees and the manicured lawns that surrounded the house.

She stepped down from the chaise with aid of a footman, who had hurried out from the house, and sailed in the open front door as if she had every right to be there. Which was when she realized she had mistimed everything.

For some reason, she had thought they would all be at dinner at six. It was when her family ate, though she was aware that fashionable people dined later. At Wolverton Hall, after the first night, they also dined at six, which Patrick called “country hours” because, he said, there was nothing else to do in the country but eat and sleep.

Grand Court was clearly more fashionable. People were milling about the front hall and the elegant curved staircase, still in morning dress. Eve realized with dismay that they were probably retiring to change before dining.

A much scarier butler than either her father’s or Liston, gazed at her with raised brows, his hand held out for her card—which, of course, she did not have.

“I’m Lady Wolf,” she said into the sudden silence of the hallway.

A smart, middle-aged lady who was bustling forward to meet her—no doubt Lady Grandison herself—paused involuntarily before continuing in clear astonishment. A nightmare of whispers echoed around her, and she tilted her chin to give herself courage.

And then she saw the man on the stairs, staring at her in undisguised horror.

Her husband.

***

“I ’M LADY WOLF.”

The voice as much as the words vibrated through Aidan with shock. He spun around on the stairs and there she stood, just inside the front door, facing the butler and Lady Grandison.

The heat of embarrassment burned into his face—before he realized this was no na?ve stumbling on her part. There was defiance in her eyes as they briefly met his. And, surely triumph.

She knew exactly what she was doing.

Lady Grandison, ever the perfect hostess, held out her hand, exclaiming, “What a delightful surprise!”

Aidan clenched his teeth. His first instinct was to roar at her to get out of here where she was neither invited nor wanted. His second was to give her the cut direct and walk away, leaving her to the tender mercies of the Grandisons and their guests. Including, he thought savagely, Snake Sanderly.

But he could do neither of these things without showing himself in an appalling light. She had done enough of that already in turning up where he had not bothered to tell anyone he was married. He hadn’t wanted to think about it, let alone talk about it.

And that look in his wife’s eyes showed him she understood perfectly.

So he played the only hand he could and descended the stairs with a smile of welcome on his lips.

Lady Grandison slapped his hand with her fan. “How dare you keep this charming secret from us, Wolf?”

Aidan took his wife’s gloved hand, still smiling. “You see, my dear, how you have spoiled my surprise? I forgive you, since I am overjoyed to see you. Allow me to make you known to your hostess, Lady Grandison. Now, come with me. I want you to myself for a little before you will meet everyone at dinner.”

Her breath caught, for she knew damned well why he wanted her alone and it was not going to be pleasant. He placed her hand firmly in his arm and tugged her inexorably toward the stairs.

However, she dug in her heels a moment longer to turn courteously back to Lady Grandison. “I hope your ladyship will forgive my unannounced arrival—”

“Oh, you are forgiven, Lady Wolf. It’s your husband I have the problem with! Not a word about his marriage!”

“I shall not stay above an hour,” Eve said. “I merely wished—”

“That, I will not forgive! I assure you we are quite used to people coming and going unexpectedly. You are a most welcome addition to our party, Lady Wolf. We all look forward to making your acquaintance.”

Aidan swept her upstairs like the over-eager bridegroom he most certainly was not, and through the long passages to his room, where he threw open the door. He almost hurled her inside, before closing the door and leaning against it, glaring at her.

“Revenge, my lady?” he said harshly. “Is it not enough that you have my name, my title and home, that you must em—”

“Frankly, no,” she interrupted calmly. “It is not enough. If you will stop whining about your sad difficulties—which you brought entirely upon yourself—I will explain to you how you may actually do some good in the world.”

His spurt of temper cut off like a tap. Whining? Why that word should rankle more than any other, he did not know, but it certainly conjured an image of himself he did not like. Besides, he was aware he should not have abandoned her without a word in a strange house the day after he married her. He doubted she had anything to do with her father’s trickery, and although she benefitted from social promotion in becoming Baroness Wolf, she had stepped out of her own society and her own life, and been forced to give up the man she had wished to marry.

It was odd of her, of course, to choose an ageing vicar when surely much more personable and wealthy young men would have been desperate to ally with her family if not to Eve herself. But then, she was an odd creature, as he was only just discovering.

“Sit down,” he muttered, brushing past her, “and be comfortable.”

She took off her hat and pelisse, but sat down with them on her lap, as though she had no intention of staying.

Good .

He poured himself a small brandy from the decanter on the dresser, and at the last minute cocked one eyebrow at her. She shook her head.

“I did not come to annoy you,” she said boldly, “although I’ll admit it was a welcome bonus, but to discuss an urgent matter that I would have brought up at the Hall if you had not fled quite so incontinently.”

A breath of amusement took him by surprise. She had a certain style. He allowed her that.

“Let us take the rest of the insults, deserved and otherwise, as read also,” he said wryly, echoing their discussion on their wedding day. “What is this urgent matter?”

“I have long been involved with the charitable running of an orphanage. The children are housed in a quite unsuitable building in St. Giles which is full of damp and mould and is too small for the number of orphans. Disease is therefore also a problem.”

He frowned. “You do not need my permission to spend your money or your time on charities, or anything else you wish. I am not that kind of a husband.”

“In this case, I do need your permission. Mr. Neville has identified a suitable house only a few hundred yards from the old building. Just on the edge of Covent Garden, it stands in a small park, which would also provide some desirable fresh air for the children.”

“What is this to do with me?” he asked impatiently.

“The house is to do with you. It belongs to you.”

His eyebrows flew up. “It does? Oh! Wait, you mean the place in Grass Square? The area is no longer suitable for a gentleman’s town house, but I can’t sell it. It’s entailed.”

“But you can rent it out.”

“I can,” he said slowly. “Are you telling me, you forced your way in here just to ask me that?”

“No,” she snapped. “I called on Lady Grandison to ask you that. Time is of the essence if the children are to be re-housed before the winter. Another winter in the old house will surely kill many.”

She was serious. Deeply serious.

“I can’t afford the upkeep,” he muttered. “Or the repairs.”

“We shall take care of that. A nominal rent would be appreciated in return.”

He frowned at her, scanning her face, which was not plain at all but alive with enthusiasm and determination. “This truly means much to you.”

“It does.”

He could see no disadvantage, although her family had fooled him before. “Is your father involved with this orphanage in any way?” he asked suspiciously.

She shook her head. “No. Although he occasionally employs the children, like Georgie the boot boy.”

Aidan shrugged. “Do it then. I’ll write to my man of business.”

“If you would give me the letter now, I can go up to London tomorrow to set things in motion before I return to Wolverton Hall.”

“I’ll write it this evening or first thing tomorrow,” he said impatiently. “But as for your—”

“Now would be better,” she interrupted. “Before I depart for the village inn.”

He blinked. She gazed back from eyes that were clear and honest and not a little beautiful. She truly intended to put up at the inn. Which, belatedly, made him aware of all the reasons why she should not.

“Oh, no, my girl,” he said dangerously. “You saw fit to come here as my wife, and here you will most definitely stay.”